


In the Mood For Love

by foxxing



Category: GOT7
Genre: Barebacking, College AU, Fluff, M/M, cat cafe worker!jb, commission fill, mild drinking, photographer!jb, soccer player!jinyoung, tooth rotting sweet sweet fluff with no angst, very cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxing/pseuds/foxxing
Summary: At 23, Park Jinyoung is content with his life, if not a little bored: a routine of school, work, soccer practice, and hanging out with who Jackson deems his "fuckbuddy". Being his best friend, Jackson is convinced that he can find someone better for him and when their mutual friend Youngjae starts working at a cat cafe with his mysterious older brother, Jinyoung finds that, for once, Jackson might be right.Or: Jinyoung meets Jaebum at the cat cafe where he works and the rest is history.





	1. i ♡

**Author's Note:**

> hi all! 
> 
> thanks for being patient with me during the agonizing wait for featherweight updates. i'm at a point right now where i'm almost back on my feet, but not quite there yet. it's hard and i'm making it through the best i can. so, i opened commissions for a bit to help me out and this was my first fill! 
> 
> **to jordan:**  
>  thank you so much for your support, and even more so for your trust that i could take something that you wanted and turn it into this. it means everything to me that i could write this for you, and this is one of the most special things i think i've ever written, and it was an honor to be able to write it for you. thank you so much. 
> 
> ♡  
> foxxing

 

“Hey! Park! Pay attention, would you?”

Jackson’s voice comes to him from across the field. It breaks Jinyoung from the trance he had been in, hands planted on his hips while he stands at the far end of the pitch bearing the brunt of the burning sun on his neck while an argument breaks out in the opposite end. His white shorts are grass stained and sticky on the middle of his thighs when he squints into the overbearing brightness of the day and looks for Jackson. 

His best friend is waving, dark hair sweaty and plastered to his face, matching white uniform stuck to places on his body with dark sweat. “Wake up!”

Jinyoung resists the urge to flip him off. Soccer practice, while a normal part of his routine by now, still drags on when their combative captain has yet another argument to make about a bad call. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so hot, but it’s sweltering out and the sun seems to reflect off the yellowing patches of flattened grass on the field and sets his skin to burning. 

Finally, after another five minutes of standing near the opposite goal and waiting for direction, Jinyoung pulls his shirt halfway up his body in hot, sweating frustration and yells, 

_ “Yah!  _ Are we done here? If Eunkwang is going to argue with the ref the whole time, I’d like to leave—“

“Enough!” their coach yells, finally standing up where he’d been sitting with his face in his hands while their captain continued to argue with a referee despite being wrong. The argument breaks off and their coach throws his arms out, whistle swinging: 

“All of you, go home! Come back next week, or don’t! I don’t care!” He looks around at all of their team members still standing around awkwardly in various spots on the sun soaked field. When no one moves, he throws his hands up and shouts, “get off my field!”

Taking  _ that  _ as their cue to leave, Jinyoung quickly jogs off the field to wait for Jackson by the locker room so they can grab their gear and walk home together.

“Are you going to shower here?” Jackson asks, looking over his shoulder after Jinyoung pushes him inside the air conditioned room and toward where their lockers sit side by side. Jackson pulls out his duffle bag and pops Jinyoung’s lock with eye-rolling ease before handing his bag over, too.

“No, I’m going to meet Mino tonight, so I’m going to shower at home. You’re going to walk with me to the subway, right?” 

Jackson makes a face. “Ugh, you’re seriously going out with him again? He’s the  _ worst.”  _

He punches Jackson lightly in the arm before shoving him back out the door of the locker room. “He’s not the worst. He’s not even  _ bad.  _ Why do you hate him so much?” 

“He’s just… I don’t know,” Jackson whines. He rubs the spot Jinyoung had punched in mock hurt and falls in step beside him as they start the long, brutal walk to the subway station a couple blocks off campus. “He’s kind of a dick, don’t you think?” 

Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “How can you say that? You don’t even know the guy.”

“Do  _ you?”  _

“Obviously,” Jinyoung says, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes, wishing he’d brought his sunglasses when the sun seems to reflect off the sidewalk pavement. The semester isn’t quite over yet but it’s already too hot to breathe, and Jackson going on another rant about how the guy Jinyoung has been hooking up with is the worst is the very last thing Jinyoung wants to be discussing right now. “You act like we’re going to get married or something.”

Jackson throws his hands up in classic Jackson theatrics. “You might!” 

Laughing, Jinyoung shoves him by the side and then grimaces when his palm comes away damp from Jackson’s sweaty soccer jersey. He wipes it along Jackson’s arm absentmindedly and says, “we’re not getting married. We aren’t even together.”

“I don’t know that I’d say that. You guys go on dates and hook up. Is that not being together?”

“It isn’t, actually,” and Jinyoung mocks him with the same face he’d made at him earlier. “We just go out and do stuff and have sex. That doesn’t mean we’re together. I don’t  _ want  _ to be his boyfriend. It’s just… you know, convenient.”

“So he’s a fuckbuddy.”

“Yeah. That.” 

They walk in silence for a bit longer, until they get off campus and turn down the main road lined with small boutiques, shops, and restaurants that lead to the subway station. Some of the shops have shaded overhangs, and Jinyoung nearly rejoices when they walk under ones that have misters running. Eyes closed, he grabs onto Jackson’s shirt and allows himself to be guided while he basks in the millisecond of relief the cold mists bring him.

“And anyway,” Jackson says randomly, bringing Jinyoung back to the heat of the day as they walk, “aren’t you tired of that? Just hooking up all the time? No romance? Why not get a boyfriend?” 

“Do I have to? I’m only 23, Jackson,” he laughs, Jackson pulling a face. “I don’t have to settle down right now.”

“I just want the best for you, you know that, right? I think you can do way better than him, and––hey!” Jackson interrupts himself, nudging Jinyoung with his elbow and pointing just a bit ahead of them to a bright yellow sign hanging off the side of a brick building. Jinyoung squints at it, trying to make out the name, but all he can see are doodles of cats in primary colors. “That’s the cafe that Youngjae started working at!” 

“That’s cool,” he says, knowing that Jackson is definitely going to try and get him to go in, but he’s tired and hot and needs to shower before going out so he tugs Jackson’s arm gently in the other direction. “But the subway is this way.”

“C’mon, Jinyoungie,” he whines, slipping out of his grip only to grab Jinyoung’s arm to shake him back and forth while they argue in the middle of the sidewalk. “Pleeeease? Can we go in? It’s so hot, and it’ll be nice and cool in there!”

“Jackson…”

He smiles, blindingly, most likely knowing that he looks adorable when he does it and that Jinyoung is a sucker for Jackson’s toothy smile. “Let’s just stop in for a second,” he says, and then wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ll even buy you a lemonade.”

Jackson probably could have gotten him to go in without the bribery, and the bribery in of itself just makes Jinyoung feel the tiniest bit suspicious, but he lets it go in favor of sliding Jackson’s sweaty palms off his bicep and sighing. 

“Fine, but we can’t stay that long.”

Cheering, Jackson grabs the sleeve of his white jersey to pull him in through the door, where they end up in a tiny, air conditioned lobby. A big pink sign on a glass door next to a bookcase full of slippers tells them to take off their shoes and put the slippers on, as having shoes on inside could make the cats sick.

“The cats––?” Jinyoung says, halfway through toeing off his other cleat. “Jackson, is this a cat cafe?” 

“Yes!” he chirps, obviously excited; it’s not that Jinyoung doesn’t like animals, it’s just that animals don’t really like  _ him.  _ Plus he’s hot, sweaty, and kind of exhausted and a vibrating ball of warm hair sitting on his lap doesn’t sound as appealing as it might, say, in winter time. 

But––Jackson is his best friend, and they’re already here. With another sigh Jinyoung kicks off his cleats and slides into the puffy pink slippers, leaving his duffel bag on the bookshelf.

He can’t lie: when they walk in the cafe proper, it’s pretty cute. There’s large cat trees that go from floor to ceiling in various places down the center, with bench seating to the left against the wall and small, colorful bistro tables scattered elsewhere. Jackson waves at Youngjae as Jinyoung turns to see multiple cats sunbathing on the hardwood floor in front of a large window set in the alcove by the door. Everything is yellow, red, blue; cheery and bright as a mixture of American and local pop music plays softly over the speakers. Normally he’s not really gung-ho about these kind of places, but with all the cat themed decorations cluttering every available inch of the place, he can kind of see the cute beneath the kitsch. 

“Go sit down,” Jackson says with a grin, after both of them exchange pleasantries with a very obviously pleased Youngjae. The place isn’t that busy, considering it’s mid-week and not quite rush hour, so Jinyoung is sure that the younger boy is relieved to finally see some people he can actually talk to. “I’ll get your lemonade.”

He sits in one of the metal chairs by the bar, where Jackson leans against it and talks to Youngjae with his chin in both hands. A fat, bumbling tabby waddles by underneath Jinyoung’s heel and he chuckles at it as its pudgy head stretches up to bump against it. 

“Youngjae-yah,” Jinyoung says, looking up from the chubby cat as it wanders away, “aren’t you allergic to cats? Why’d you start working here?”

As if on cue, Youngjae covers his mouth with an elbow to sneeze into it. Grinning, he says, “yeah, but it’s not so bad. I usually stay back here, anyway, and the cats aren’t allowed back here. My older brother works here and since he can drive, our mom just figured it would be easier. Just convenience, mostly.”

Jinyoung nods. He takes the lemonade that Jackson hands back to him, sipping on it, grateful for the burst of sharp sweetness in his mouth and the cold that chases down his chest. A couple more cats come by, seemingly interested in him, and he entertains himself with teasing them by bopping the top of their heads with the soft heel of his slipper. One of the cats bats it off his foot; he laughs and leans down to pick it up, but the cat skitters away.

Still leaning on the counter, Jackson looks back at him but looks away suspiciously when Jinyoung makes eye contact with him. “So, Youngjae,” he says, much too loudly, “speaking of your brother. Is he here?”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes––is this why they  _ actually  _ came here? So Jackson could see Youngjae’s older brother? Jinyoung knows he has one––he’d be hard pressed not to, seeing as their circle of friends is very loosely connected (mostly via Jackson, who can’t stand not talking to everyone in the room), but hasn’t ever met him. Doesn’t know who he even is, actually, and Jinyoung opens his mouth to gripe at Jackson for lying to him about why they came at the same time that Youngjae laughs and a back room door swings open.

The guy who exits is tall, lean body swallowed up by an oversized graphic printed t-shirt of a rapper that Jinyoung vaguely recognizes but can’t name. The pink slippers on his socked feet look out of place against the black of his skinny jeans and the black denim jacket thrown over the top of it, and a similarly colored bag is banging against his hip. Dark, cat shaped eyes finally look up from an illuminated phone screen as he seems to sense three other pairs of eyes on him. 

“What?” he asks, deep voice confused, and Jinyoung has to try not to stare.

He’s... _ hot,  _ that’s for sure. Jinyoung is a sucker for small eyes, anyway, and this guy’s only get smaller when he narrows them in suspicion, aimed mostly at his younger brother. The mid-length dark hair falls across his forehead and a little behind his ears, soft-looking and silky as it brushes his unmarked neck, shaved down on the sides in a heartbreakingly fashionable undercut. One hand decked out in silver rings of varying sizes pauses halfway to putting an earbud in his ear while Jinyoung tries not to drop his jaw in cartoon surprise.

He’s  _ really  _ hot. Like,  _ really, really, really  _ hot. 

“Seriously,” he says, looking more confused, seeming to catch a glimpse of Jinyoung from the corner of his eye. He looks over at him, dark, thick brows furrowed. He gives Jinyoung a weird look that makes him turn red and immediately look away, sipping at his lemonade as though he hadn’t even noticed he’d walked into the room. 

“Why are you guys looking at me?” 

Jinyoung can feel the guy’s eyes on the side of his face, still glaring with that strange look like Jinyoung has three heads, and he quietly mentally kicks himself for not showering on campus and looking so sweaty and gross in his soccer uniform. It’s not that he’d been expecting to come across the hottest guy he’s ever seen, but it couldn’t have hurt to be  _ prepared.  _ Especially when he feels the guy’s eyes on him all the way until he gets to the counter and turns to talk to Youngjae and Jackson.

“Are you leaving already?” Jackson asks, still leaning on both elbows, and Jinyoung has to try very hard to keep his face turned away. He’s beyond embarrassed about getting caught staring wide-eyed at Youngjae’s hot older brother, and he wishes like hell that the floor would either open up and drag him in or that he’d just, yeah,  _ leave already. _

“Yeah,” he says, and Jinyoung watches him adjust the strap of his bag from the corner of his eye. “I have a photography assignment due later, so I have to go finish it before I lose all the good lighting.”

“Aww, but we just got here!” Jackson whines, nodding to where Jinyoung is sitting, but Jinyoung keeps one leg crossed over the other and doesn’t look over like he hadn’t heard. 

“I’ll be here tomorrow if you want to say hi,” he says, laughing a little. There’s the tell-tale  _ thwack  _ of a hand hitting Jackson’s back. “Youngjae, I’ll come pick you up later, okay?”

There’s a chorus of  _ bye, hyung  _ as the guy waves to them and leaves, throwing a curious glance back at Jinyoung before he disappears through the glass door of the shop. Relieved, Jinyoung breathes out around his straw and slumps a little in his chair as Jackson bounds over and scoots his dangerously close.

“So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “what do you think?”

“Yah, so that really is why we came here, huh?” Jinyoung accuses, and fakes out a slap to the back of Jackson’s head that makes him flinch away with a pinking  _ oh, darn  _ expression. “Jerk.”

“Hey! I’m just asking if you thought he was cute!” 

Jinyoung shrugs; although if Jackson had turned around at any point while he was still in the room, he would probably know he’s lying about being so nonchalant. He might know, anyway, being his best friend and all, but he can’t be sure. God forbid he  _ ask.  _

“He was okay.”

“‘He was okay’?” Jackson sounds unfairly upset about it, which makes Jinyoung throw him an annoyed look. “Come on, he’s like, perfect for you!” 

“Perfect for me––Jackson,  _ what––?” _

“Like, look-wise! He’s  _ so  _ your type. Don’t lie, Jinyoung. You don’t think I can see that the tips of your ears are red? You suck at lying.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, feeling his phone vibrate on the table next to him. What does Jackson know, anyway? He’s pretty sure Jackson only knows him through Youngjae, and he’s not that great of a judge of character sometimes, anyway. What does Jackson know about this guy that makes him so  _ perfect for him?  _ “He seemed kinda rude, since he didn’t say anything to me.”

“Probably because you were staring,” Jackson teases, and dodges Jinyoung’s hand again. 

“I wasn’t,” he says hotly, picking up his phone and opening the text he’d gotten without looking at it. “He was looking at me weird, and didn’t say anything to me. He’s cute but I’m not interested.” Jinyoung looks down to see that Mino had asked him what time he wanted to be picked up, and Jinyoung stands while showing Jackson the screen. “See? Mino just texted me about our plans later.”

“Oh great,” Jackson says sarcastically, pushing his hand away gently. “I’m so happy for you. Maybe he’ll even offer to pay for you this time.”

Making a face, Jinyoung flicks Jackson on the forehead and squeals as he ducks away from his retaliation. Without looking behind him, Jinyoung waves goodbye to the both of them and heads out the door, slipping back into his cleats and throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder. He wonders absently if he could just get Mino to pick him up instead of having to take the subway, and Jinyoung pauses in the doorway out to the street to send him a text, not realizing that someone’s trying to come in just as he’s going out. 

When his chest connects with a broader one, he  _ oofs  _ in surprise and drops his duffel bag off his shoulder, grabbing the metal frame of the door to keep from falling as the other person he’d run into grabs both of his arms out of reflex. Jinyoung feels another bag drop between them as he steps back out of the way; his stomach flutters uselessly as warm hands and thick fingers flex once around his biceps before letting go.

“Sorry,” Jinyoung says, already leaning down to grab the bags that had dropped since it was his fault, but they knock their heads together when they do it at the same time. “Ow!”

“Shit,” a deep voice says, and to Jinyoung’s horror, he looks up to realize that the person he’d run into is Youngjae’s hot older brother. He rubs his own head with a pained squint and gives Jinyoung a look and asks, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he coughs awkwardly, holding a hand out so that they don’t do it again while he reaches down to pick up their bags. Youngjae’s brother’s had opened, and Jinyoung frantically pushes the contents back in before licking his lips and straightening up with a feigned look of coolness on his face. “That was my fault, I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” he says, giving Jinyoung a small half-smile out of politeness. “I left something inside so I came back to get it. Sorry for bumping into you like that.” 

Jinyoung isn’t sure why he’s explaining himself, or why he’s still apologizing for something that’s clearly Jinyoung’s fault, or even why it makes him feel so weird in his stomach. Jinyoung adjusts the strap of his bag and steps to the side out of the way with a quick, nervous swipe of his hand through his hair. 

The guy waits for just a second, like he’s going to say something else or is waiting for Jinyoung to. Jinyoung’s phone starts to ring in his hand with a picture of himself and Mino coming up on the screen and when he looks back up, suddenly he’s alone in the lobby, the glass door into the cafe closing behind Youngjae’s brother as he disappears through it without another word. 

Sighing, Jinyoung pushes the strap on his shoulder higher and steps back out into the heat, the strangest feeling in his heart. 

  
  
  


Against what Jackson had (sarcastically) hoped for him, Mino doesn’t offer to pay for him when they meet up to go to a movie. Jinyoung isn’t surprised and he isn’t hurt: this is just how they are together, more like friends that hang out with a side of messing around. What had Jackson called it? Fuckbuddy? The term makes Jinyoung wince a bit; it sounds so… emotionless, but, then again, there isn’t a whole lot of emotion involved in what he does with Mino besides a comfortable sort of camaraderie, so maybe that’s just what it is. He thinks it’s a little futile to try and put a label on it, anyway. 

Regardless, the night ends after mutual handjobs in the car, given quick and dirty hidden in the shrubbery of Jinyoung’s driveway. Goodnight kisses come and go, nothing more than a “see you later” as Mino pulls away before Jinyoung even makes it to the door. 

Despite it being little more than an arrangement of convenience, Jinyoung can’t help but feel oddly guilty that the person on his mind all night had not been the one right in front of him.

_ Get it together,  _ he tells himself, quietly slipping off his shoes by the door so that he doesn’t wake his parents or sisters. He sneaks up the stairs to his bedroom, chastising himself for not being able to shake the image of Youngjae’s hot older brother or the feeling of his hands where they had gripped his arms to keep him from falling. 

“What a mess,” he mutters, annoyed at himself, thoughts fluttering between subjects faster than he can grab onto. Jinyoung throws his duffel bag on the bed to rifle through it and pull out his dirty clothes to wash as he wonders briefly if his odd fixation on how attractive Youngjae’s brother is stems from his slow outgrowing of whatever he has with Mino. Restlessness, the desire for something new; romantic things, the kind he reads in books. Yugyeom might just accuse him of wanting to sleep around.

Whatever. Maybe that’s true, too, and he’s not ashamed of it so much as he wonders if that’s really  _ it.  _ Jackson had asked him if he was ready to settle down, hadn’t he? To which Jinyoung had replied, no, he isn’t, he’s only 23. So why does thinking about Youngjae’s brother that he had seen for a grand total of maybe five minutes make him feel so….? 

_ You see a hot guy for five minutes and suddenly you want to marry him? Get a fucking grip, Jinyoung.  _

With a sigh, he balls up his clothes and turns to toss them toward the hamper. There’s the quiet rattle of something falling from the lump and hitting the bed just before he throws it, and it startles him into dropping the pile of dirty uniforms to the floor by the corner of his bed as he looks at the small box lying on his comforter. 

“What the hell,” he mutters, reaching for it. He picks it up and gives it a shake to try and guess the contents without actually opening it. It just sounds like plastic: the box itself is small, grey in color and unmarked as he turns it over in his hands, except for—

_ Im Jaebum   
_ _ SNU Center for Photography  _

Jinyoung stares at it. How had this gotten in his bag? And who—

He remembers suddenly that, when he’d gone to pick up the bag that Youngjae’s brother had dropped when they ran into each other, the zipper had been open and he had to push the contents back inside. Jinyoung is notorious for never zipping his own duffel bag all the way closed, and how he considers the possibility that, by some act of fate or something like it, something of Youngjae’s brother’s— _ Jaebum’s— _ had fallen into his bag by mistake. Slightly curious, Jinyoung opens the lid of the box to see two film canisters side by side with  _ Im Jaebum  _ written across the plastic lids of both in a messy script.

Jaebum had been on his way to a photography assignment, hadn’t he? Jinyoung thinks that he might be missing these. Still looking at it in a dazed disbelief, Jinyoung realizes he has several options. He could text Jackson to text Youngjae to let him know that Jinyoung has it, so that if he’s worried over it’s whereabouts, he doesn’t have to anymore. He could also hand it over to Jackson so he can give it to Youngjae. 

Or…

Jinyoung cringes at himself but drops the box back into his bag.  _ He  _ could take it back to Jaebum directly—he remembers Jaebum mentioning that he’d be at the cafe working tomorrow, so it’s not like Jinyoung couldn’t stop in with it on his way to the subway station. He doesn’t have soccer practice, either, so he could do it early in the afternoon and put more effort into being presentable.  _ Not,  _ he tells himself as he picks up the box to put in his messenger bag hanging off his doorknob,  _ that I’m worried about that. It’s just that I  _ can  _ dress nicer since I don’t have practice. That’s all.  _

He hears Jackson disembodied voice just before he falls asleep:

_ Yeah, sure, Jinyoungie. You just wanna look nice for him for no reason. Got it.  _

  
  


*

 

“Where are you going, Jinyoungie?” 

Jinyoung looks down at him where his head is resting in Jinyoung’s lap, half his face covered by the phone he’s holding up and scrolling through. Both of their classes are over for the day, but Jackson has to go to work on campus in half an hour so Jinyoung is just wasting time with him in one of the commons. 

“Home,” he says, and Jackson grins at him.

“Liar.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” 

“Why are you dressed like this if you’re just going home?”

He looks down at himself: tight jeans and a button down t-shirt tucked in and cinched with a belt isn’t exactly fancy, and paired with the Nikes he’s been wearing for years, he doesn’t think it’s spectacularly extravagant or anything. Sure, he maybe picked out the best navy blue shirt he has knowing that it looks really good on his skin tone, but it wasn’t like he picked it out specifically because he’s going to see Jaebum later to return his film.

Probably.

“I can tell by the way you’re thinking that you’re trying super hard to come with a lie, and that it’s not working.” 

Jinyoung clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. “Asshole.”

“Why are you calling _me_ an asshole?!” he whines, pushing Jinyoung’s hand away where he’d started to pretend strangle him to sit up. “I’m just making an  _ observation.  _ Who are you meeting?”

“I’m not meeting anyone,” Jinyoung says, shoving him playfully. “I just have to go somewhere.”

Jackson slides his phone back into his pocket and cocks a dark eyebrow at him. “And that somewhere is…?” 

He sighs, giving up. Jackson is going to get the answer out of him one way or another, so he might as well just tell him and get the teasing over with right now.

“I’m going back to the cafe,” he says, and raises his voice when Jackson’s mouth opens wide like he’s going to say something,  _ “because,  _ something of his fell out in my bag and I’m going to return it to him.”

“So you dressed nice to return something he dropped?” 

“You act like I don’t dress like this normally!”

Laughing, Jackson hops down off the low wall they’d been sitting on and faces him with his hands placed firmly on his hips. “That’s because you don’t! All you wear is like, wide leg pants and long sleeve shirts. You really think you’re going to get one over on me, Park Jinyoung?”

“I never said that––”

“Just admit you think he’s cute!” 

“I did!” he shouts, laughing, sticking out a leg to keep Jackson from coming any closer. “I already told you he was cute, just that I wasn’t interested.” 

With an eyeroll, Jackson pushes his leg away and says, “whatever. You think you’re fooling me but you’re totally not. I have to go to work now, so go see your man.”

“Urgh,” Jinyoung cringes, fake gagging. “Don’t call him that. He’s not  _ my man.”  _

With an eyebrow wiggle and a hop to dodge Jinyoung’s kick, Jackson says, “not yet!” and giggles maniacally as he jogs away, leaving Jinyoung alone in the summer heat.

“Idiot,” Jinyoung murmurs to himself. But as he picks up his bag and heads in the direction of the cafe, he can’t deny that there’s a fluttering in his belly that he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. 

The day is hot, but it’s at least a little windy and he finally remembered his sunglasses, so the walk to the cafe is a little more pleasant than it had been yesterday, although some of the sweat that drips down his neck is more out of nervousness than anything else. Jinyoung wishes he could shake it––he’s never had this problem with Mino before. He’s always been pretty confident and cool, and it’s not like Mino isn’t attractive, because he  _ is.  _ It frustrates him that he just can’t figure out what makes Im Jaebum so different when he doesn’t even  _ know  _ the guy. 

After another few minutes of walking and trying to talk himself down from being so nervous for no reason, Jinyoung finally rounds the corner and can see the flag of the cafe on the side of the building flapping a little in the weak wind. He swallows, nervous. And for what, to return some personal property to a boy who was sort of rude to him the day before? Someone he doesn’t even know and claims to be uninterested in? 

Stupid. So, so stupid. 

With a deep breath of feigned confidence Jinyoung opens the door and goes through the motions of removing his shoes in exchange for the bubble gum pink of the puffy slippers and makes his way inside. Because it’s the early afternoon, the shop is nearly empty: the only other people in the building are a couple tucked away into a semi-private corner and Jaebum, who is standing behind the counter leaned back against the opposite one scrolling through his cell phone with one hand and petting a cat with the other. 

He must not hear Jinyoung approach; he doesn’t look up when Jinyoung steps to the counter, his dark hair hanging down to expose the shaved sides and covering him from view. It’s also possible that he’s being ignored, and Jinyoung’s nervousness ticks up, just a little. There’s something oddly handsome about him when he’s not being paid attention to—the day before he had seemed...not quite standoffish, but something related to it; there’s an overall softness to him now as he scritches a rule-breaking cat between the ears and hums softly under his breath to the tune of the song that’s playing over the cafe radio. 

Jinyoung swallows.  _ Jackson,  _ he thinks,  _ I lied. _

Clearing his throat softly, Jinyoung lays a hand on the counter. “Hi, um, excuse me?” 

Startled, Jaebum jumps and nearly drops his phone, which startles the cat away with an irritated  _ mrow.  _ A faint blush pinks the tops of his cheeks as he catches his phone and slides it into his pocket, the other hand running through the silky strands of his hair. 

“I’m so sorry, hi, how can I help you?” 

Jinyoung sort of feels like turning around and running out. There’s something almost intimidating about his good looks, especially when those dark eyes are trained on him again but with a softness this time instead of the rough confusion he had yesterday.

“Um, so we ran into each other yesterday—“ Jinyoung says this mostly into his bag as he digs through it for the small box with Jaebum’s name on it. When he finds it he pulls it out and holds it out to him across the counter. “And I think this fell out of your bag into mine.” 

At first Jaebum cocks an eyebrow, too handsome for his own good, Jinyoung thinks, but then he sets his sight on the little box on his palm and the whole nature of his face changes. It goes from the cool, polished exterior of someone who really tries to put on an air to that of a delighted, excited, and relieved little kid. 

“Oh my god!” he exclaims, plucking it from Jinyoung’s hand and opening it to check the contents. He smiles when he looks up and Jinyoung wants to slap himself for feeling so weak in the knees: it’s all teeth, that smile, and it folds his eyes to crescents. “Thank you so much. I was freaking out looking for these yesterday! I thought I lost them. Seriously, thank you so much.” 

He seems so genuinely happy and relieved that Jinyoung can’t help but smile back and laugh a bit. “You’re welcome. Sorry for kidnapping them from you.” 

When he laughs, god, Jinyoung feels something in his chest shift, the fluttering of a bird’s wings as it releases from a cage. Jinyoung laughs too and shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, his stomach turning. 

“Well, I guess I’ll be going. I’m glad I could get your stuff back to you—“

“Wait!” Jaebum exclaims, browns furrowed at him. “Stay for a minute, and I’ll make you a lemonade. That’s what you were drinking yesterday, right?”

Jinyoung feels himself blush a little. He didn’t think Jaebum noticed him at all, much less that he’d remember what he was drinking. “Yeah, it was.” 

“Go sit down,” Jaebum nods in the direction of the table closest to the counter. “I’ll make you a lemonade, on me.” 

“You really don’t need to,” Jinyoung says, shifting on his feet, suddenly feeling dizzy from how sweet and nice Youngjae’s older brother is turning out to be. Strange, but he never would have expected the frosty boy from yesterday to be so warm. “It’s not a big deal—“

“Not to you, maybe,” Jaebum teases, nodding toward the table again, and Jinyoung feels helpless but to oblige. “But it is to me. Seriously, it’s the least I can do.” 

Jaebum flashes him that smile again and it’s all the convincing he needed. 

Jinyoung sits down, hanging his bag on the back of his chair as he watches Jaebum’s broad back covered by a thin, grey t-shirt. A grey and black siamese jumps on the counter and meows at him while he makes Jinyoung’s lemonade; he turns at the sound and smiles while he puts a lid on with one hand. 

“Nora jjing,” he coos, rubbing her head before coming around the counter and sitting across from Jinyoung with a lemonade of his own. “She’s cute, right?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says, and laughs when she hops down and follows him to sit on his foot. 

He takes a sip of his lemonade, once again caught off guard by the sweetness of it, and he licks his lips while Jaebum sips from his and watches him do it, too. 

“Oh!” Jaebum says suddenly, lowering his lemonade and flushing slightly. “I never caught your name.”

Jinyoung holds his hand out with a shy smile. “Park Jinyoung.”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum repeats, and his hand is as warm as his voice when he reaches out to shake it. There’s something about the way that Jaebum says his name, like he’s tasting it, that makes a shudder run down Jinyoung’s back. “I like it.” 

“Thanks,” he laughs. “I take it you’re Im Jaebum?”

“Yup, that’s me.” Jaebum gives him his own smile that seems kind of shy. “You’re friends with Jackson, right?” 

“Unfortunately,” he says, but smiles when Jaebum laughs at his joke. “Jackson adores Youngjae.”

“I’m glad someone does. Just kidding, he’s a good younger brother. He’s a good kid. Do you know him well?”

Jinyoung shakes his head and sips at his lemonade, heart thudding in his chest, wondering when this moment between them will end and desperately not wanting it to. “Not as well as Jackson does.” 

“Ah. Well, Jinyoung, what do you go to school for?” he asks, although he pauses after and seems to think better of it. After a beat where he bites his lip nervously he adds, “if you don’t mind—I don’t mean to keep you here if you have somewhere to go, I was just—“

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Jinyoung says, that thundering in his heart louder now in his ears as Jaebum’s cheeks pink ever so slightly in a sweet embarrassment. Could this really be happening to him right now? Jinyoung feels like the life he had known before coming here yesterday has been turned upside down on its head and shaken to the point where nothing is familiar. It’s been so long since someone has made his palms sweat and his heart pound just by sitting there and smiling at him, but Im Jaebum is doing just that and it’s driving him crazy. 

“I’m going to be a teacher, but I write as well,” he says, and then adds, “sometimes. I’ve fallen off the wagon a bit recently. What about you, Jaebum-ssi?”

Jaebum waves him off and brightens considerably at the question. “Oh, don’t call me ssi. Jaebum is fine. I do photography, which I’m sure you’ve gathered.” Jinyoung nods and continues watching the handsome lines of his face as he smiles. “But I do some design too. Mostly graphic—I like magazines. Specifically art magazines, so my graduation project is designing and producing an entire magazine.”

Handsome, unbearably sweet, smart,  _ and _ cool? Jinyoung’s glad he’s sitting down because his knees feel weak. He runs a hand through his hair out of nervous habit and shyly asks, 

“Would you show me your work sometime? If—if you want to of course. But it sounds so interesting and I won’t lie, I was pretty curious after I found those film rolls.” 

Jaebum laughs, leaning back in his chair, dark hair exposing his ears full of metal. Jinyoung’s mouth  _ waters.  _

_ Am I going crazy?  _ he thinks to himself.  _ Is that what this is? Is lust finally driving me insane? _

“Wow, you really want to see it?” He stands up out of his chair and looks down at him, smile shy but so bright that Jinyoung almost has to look away. “Do you have time right now? I can go get my camera and show you some. I owe you one for returning that film, anyway.”

Does Jinyoung have any plans? He doesn't think so. If he does, he’s so entranced by Jaebum’s presence that he doesn’t remember, so he nods. “Yeah! You don’t owe me, though, I swear. You already made me a lemonade, and I really do want to hear about your project––”

Jaebum turns bright red. He opens his mouth to respond, barely getting out an “Um––” before there’s the soft swishing of the door opening behind them and someone calling out,

“Jinyoung!” 

He knows that voice. He turns halfway in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, wondering not only how but  _ why  _ Mino is leaning in the doorway and looking at him like  _ uh, hello?  _

“Hyung?” Jinyoung asks quizzically. They definitely aren’t together but for some reason, Jinyoung still feels like he’s been caught with his pants down. “What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for you,” he says, annoyed. He runs a hand through his bleached hair and motions for him to hurry up, “we were supposed to go out like, an hour ago, but you weren’t answering me.” 

“How’d you even know I was here?” 

Mino glances behind him, presumably at Jaebum, and Jinyoung watches in confusion as his handsome features darken. Jinyoung is half tempted to turn around and look at Jaebum, too, but he considers how that might look and just waits with a steadily rising impatience for Mino to answer.

“I asked Jackson.” 

Jinyoung rolls his eyes and tries not to sigh too loudly. He’s actually kind of surprised that Jackson told him: Jackson has never been quiet about his dislike for the weird connection between Mino and Jinyoung, and has adamantly stated for as long as they’ve been seeing each other that Jinyoung could do way better. It’s not that Jinyoung disagreed, it’s just that he didn’t really have an opinion: except for right now, Mino never really did anything upsetting or even anything that felt rude. Their relationship was based on a mutual agreement that they’d hang out sometimes and have sex. There was never an expectation that it was exclusive to one another or anything like that, and it confuses him now that Mino seems...jealous.

“Do you really not remember that we made plans to hang out the other night, Jinyoungie?”

No, he really doesn’t. Maybe they did. Jinyoung turns to finally glance back at Jaebum and is surprised when he’s no longer standing there: he’s back behind the counter, phone in one hand, only glancing up at Jinyoung once with a weird expression that he almost reads as hurt in between studiously ignoring the two of them entirely. Jinyoung can’t really explain why, but it makes his stomach hurt. He doesn’t like that at all. 

“Not really, but thanks for interrupting,” he says, and there’s just a little bit of heat behind it. Mino makes a surprised face that quickly shutters back into annoyance. 

“I wouldn’t have to interrupt if you’d answer your phone,” he says. He holds the door open despite there being a large sign on it saying to do the exact opposite of that because of the cats. 

Jinyoung motions for him to go on, finally standing up and grabbing the strap of his bag. “Close the door, stupid, or the cats will get out. Go wait outside and I’ll be there in a second.”

With an eyeroll, Mino closes the cafe door and disappears. As soon as he’s out of sight, it’s almost like he’d never come at all: Jinyoung immediately looks toward Jaebum, whose face is once again obscured from view by the curtain of his long fringe as he looks at his phone. 

Something about Jaebum’s aura feels off to him, which he then tries to convince himself is unfair to them both since he barely knows the guy and only talked to him for the first time today. But he can’t help but sense it as Jaebum doesn’t look up at him despite the tension in his broad shoulders that says he knows that Jinyoung is still there. 

“Hey,” Jinyoung says quietly, and Jaebum finally looks up, but there’s nothing really on his face like there had been before: no radiant smile, no folded eyes. Jinyoung’s heart drops into his stomach that he could have fucked this up before it even had the chance to begin. “I gotta go, but––”

“Oh, yeah, see you around,” Jaebum interrupts, saying it almost off handedly like he hadn’t been listening to what Jinyoung was saying. He looks back down at his phone and, feeling dismissed, Jinyoung throws his empty lemonade cup in the trash before he goes.

He doesn’t turn to see Jaebum watching after him like he wanted to say something else, but he doesn’t have to: the feeling is mirrored in his chest, his mind not wandering away from the sweet boy from the cat cafe even once. 

  
  


* 

 

The night was a disaster. 

“Did he cry?” Jackson asks, too gleefully; Jinyoung considers hanging up on him and blocking his number, but instead just makes an irritated noise into the phone. 

“No, he didn’t _cry.”_ Jinyoung sighs and adjusts himself on his bed, throwing another pillow behind his neck before staring up at the ceiling. “But he was like, weirdly upset about it.”

Jackson barks a short laugh into the phone that makes Jinyoung wince away from the earpiece. “It sounds like he caught feelings for you, Jinyoungie.”

“I doubt that.”

“Do you?” he asks. “I mean, think about it. Did he ever tell you about anyone else he was seeing or sleeping with?” 

Now that he mentions it, Jinyoung doesn’t actually recall Mino ever saying anything about sleeping with anyone other than him. Jinyoung argues, “no, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t. That was something we didn’t really talk about, I guess. It was just an unspoken thing that it wasn’t official, never would be, and that we were just messing around because it was convenient.” 

“Well if you never talked about it, then how do you know? Plus, if he really was upset that you told him you didn’t want to mess around anymore, isn’t that like breaking up?”   


If Jinyoung could roll his eyes any harder, he would. “No. It isn’t. But I’m not going to be a jerk and just go ghost on him.”

Jackson starts laughing, which, even though the breaking-it-off-with-Mino-because-he-has-a-crush-on-Jaebum situation isn’t exactly funny, makes Jinyoung start laughing too. Between breaths he says,

“I think the term is just ‘ghosting’.”

“Whatever,” Jinyoung says, grinning. “I didn’t want to just ghost him. It’s over now, he was upset, but he’ll get over it.”

Finally calming down, he imagines the way Jackson wipes his eyes when he laughs and takes a deep breath. “So, what are you going to do about Jaebum?” 

“Um, what do you mean?” 

“Are you going to ask him out or what?” 

“Jackson!” he exclaims, cheeks reddening, despite Jackson having merely asked an innocent question. 

“Well?! Are you?”

“I dont….I don’t know!” he sighs and throws an arm over his eyes, phone held to his ear with a shoulder. “He seemed weird when I left with Mino today––”

“Duh, cause he’s jealous––”

“Shut  _ up,”  _ Jinyoung warns, talking over him so he can finish, “and plus, our conversation was really nice but he was just being friendly. He––”

Jinyoung is about to finish when his phone vibrates against his face at an incoming text message. Frowning, he tells Jackson to hang on and pulls the phone away from his face to drag the notification down, heart stopping when a text appears from a number he doesn’t recognize:

_ Hey, this is jaebum. I got your number from jackson, i hope that’s ok…  _

“Jackson!” Jinyoung shouts, which startles his best friend into yelling back at him. “You gave Jaebum my phone number?” 

“Yes! He asked for it!” Jackson shoots back. “You’re not mad, are you? I guess I should have asked you first, but I really thought you wouldn’t mind…” 

The little bubble appears in the chat window indicating that Jaebum is typing again. Jinyoung’s heartbeat is suddenly very fast; he barely hears what Jackson says and just mutters “no, I’m not mad, it’s okay” as he waits for Jaebum’s next message to come:

_ just really wanted to thank you again for returning my film, it’s for a graduation project so i’m really relieved.  _

Jinyoung’s heart squeezes. He looked so blank when he’d left earlier, but this out of the blue text message thanking him for the hundredth time for something Jinyoung didn’t really expect to be thanked for makes him feel like he hadn’t totally ruined it, after all.

_ No, it’s okay, I don’t mind. You really don’t have to thank me so much, though _

“Jinyoung, you better not be ignoring me to text Jaebum while we’re literally on the phone––”

“Be quiet,” he quips, tongue between his teeth as he sends another:

_ Sorry for leaving so abruptly…  _

Jaebum takes a minute to reply, but when he does, Jinyoung’s heartbeat stutters. 

_ It’s ok, i know how relationships are, don’t sweat it  _

Ugh. So Jaebum thinks he’s in a relationship? Jinyoung makes a noise and says, “Jackson, he thinks that me and Mino were dating.”

“We all did.” 

“Ha, ha,” Jinyoung says sarcastically, making a face even though he can’t see it.  “He definitely isn’t interested, right?” 

“I don’t know, he did ask me for your number so he could text you about something that he already thanked you for. Plus,” Jackson adds, his tone smug, and Jinyoung could punch him through the phone, “I thought  _ you  _ weren’t interested?” 

He hesitates, and decides to lie. “I’m not.”

Jackson just laughs. 

While he does, Jinyoung texts Jaebum back and dispels the idea that he and Mino had been together.  _ Oh, we weren’t dating. Just kinda messing around, but I broke it off, lol _

Jaebum replies a moment later:  _ oh, i’m sorry to hear that :( _

_ It’s okay,  _ he responds.  _ We weren’t together so I’m not worried about it. But, I’d still really like to see your work if you still want to show me…? _

“Seriously, what is he saying? Stop ignoring me!”

Jinyoung’s heartbeat changes, turning sluggish with a stomach churning anxiety as he waits for what he feels like is an inevitable rejection. He feels like any chance they could have had is gone, broken by Mino’s sudden appearance. Jinyoung tries not to hold his breath. 

_ yeah, i’d love to :) i’ll be out of the shop this weekend for school stuff, but i’ll be back next week so you can swing by whenever _

“Hellloooooo?” Jackson whines, “you know I can hear your breathing speed up, right? What did he say?” 

Jinyoung puts the phone back to his ear as his eyes widen. “Can you really?” 

“Nah, I was just kidding. But I imagine he said something good since you didn’t deny it. What happened?” 

Blushing, Jinyoung wishes Jackson was within arms reach so he could actually punch him a little. “He said I can go see him next week so I can see some of his  work.”

Jackson howls in delight. “Yes! I knew it! So, you’re going to ask him out, right?” 

“No!” Jinyoung exclaims, but he can’t deny that he feels a little giddy at the thought of it. “I’m not! I mean, I shouldn’t. I barely know him.” 

“And? Isn’t the purpose of a date to get to know each other better?” 

“I guess…”

Jackson groans, and there’s the faint  _ smack smack smack  _ like he’s hitting himself in the forehead with his phone. “Seriously, you’re so dense. You’re handsome, smart, and really charming. You really think he’s not at least into the  _ idea _ of going on a date?” 

“I don’t know, Jackson…” 

“Look,” Jackson says, settling down into a tone a little more serious. “You know Mark, right? The older guy that Bambam lives with?” 

He only vaguely remembers seeing Bambam’s roommate the couple times they’d gone to his house, but Jinyoung nods. “Yeah. The one you’re kind of obsessed with?”

“I’m not obsessed,” Jackson replies hotly. “He’s just cute. Anyway, they’re having a party next Saturday at their house. I’m pretty sure they know each other, actually, so he might be going anyway, but assume that he’s not going and invite him! Worst case scenario is he’s already going and you guys can just hang out there.”

Jinyoung hums. It’s not a  _ terrible  _ idea, he supposes; plus, being at a house party, there will be plenty of other people there to provide a buffer if it starts to get weird or doesn’t go well. His stomach rolls: he’s a little surprised at how badly he wants it to go well.

“Worst case scenario is that he says no.” 

“How did your parents deal with you?” Jackson groans, making a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “You’re so dramatic. Just ask him out. I’m hanging up now. Let me know how it goes. Bye!”

Without giving him the chance to reply, Jackson hangs up. Jinyoung mumbles “idiot” under his breath before throwing his phone down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot until he falls asleep.

  
  


*

 

The weekend passes excruciatingly slow, made only better by the fact that Jaebum ends up texting him quite a bit: it started with a mixed up text, Jinyoung having received a photo of a cat from Jaebum with a silly caption. He texted back a mix of question marks and emojis communicating his confusion only to be met with Jaebum’s cute embarrassment:  _ omg I’m so sorry, i meant to send that to youngjae.  _ But Jinyoung finds that he doesn’t mind, and their conversations grow into bigger things, like the music they enjoy and they discover, to much joy, a mutual love of reading. Every message has Jinyoung grinning like a fool, heart giddy, watching the clock tick by with an ache that it won’t go any faster. He tries to make do with their sweet conversations that get more serious the longer the night wears on, but he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t impatient and dying to see him in person again. 

As it is, he doesn’t see him until Thursday. Work, soccer practice, and a combination thereof make him much more tired and busy than he expected to be, and Jaebum has usually left the shop for the day by the time Jinyoung is done. Part of him wonders if he should just ask Jaebum to meet him somewhere else so that they can hang out together, but every time he types it out, he gets too shy and erases it.

By the time Thursday rolls around, Jinyoung is nearly bursting at the seams to see him. Off of work and soccer practice for the day, he takes the time to dress in the cutest outfit he can whip up with the limited time he has before class starts. Jackson would probably roll his eyes and call him a square for settling for tight, cuffed jeans and a loose, tucked in t-shirt, but Jinyoung feels too dressed up in anything else. He texts Jaebum to let him know he’ll swing by the cafe later, and his heart nearly explodes out of his chest when he receives a single heart as a response. 

He barely listens in class, anxiously watching the clock and nearly bursting out of his seat when it’s over. Jackson had begged him to stop by the office where he works for one of the coaches, but Jinyoung just texts him a  _ :p  _ and makes him suffer alone while Jinyoung makes a beeline for the cafe in the sweltering heat. By the time he arrives the back of his shirt is soaked with sweat and he prays like hell that Jaebum doesn’t notice.

Jinyoung walks in, glad that the place is mostly empty, and surprised to see Jaebum leaning against the outside of the counter and waiting for him. His handsome face lights up in that cheery glow that had made Jinyoung’s heart feel funny the first time he’d seen it, and the feeling only expands as Jaebum holds out a lemonade for him. 

“Hi, Jinyoung,” he says warmly, and there’s a tint of shyness to the way he says it that makes Jinyoung feel like he’s going crazy. He takes the lemonade with a shy thank you and follows Jaebum over to one of the bench seats along the wall and toward the corner of the room where they sit side by side and look at each other in a nervous silence as they drink. 

Jaebum finally clears his throat and pulls his phone out of the pocket of his fitted black jeans, ripped stylishly in the thighs and knees. There’s a faint blush running along the tops of his cheeks underneath his eyes and Jinyoung has to look away from how handsome and boyish it makes him before he is overcome with the urge to kiss him. 

“Here’s some I took with my phone,” he says softly, pulling up a gallery of photos and starting to scroll through them slowly. “They aren’t as good as the ones on my camera or the ones I take on film since the quality is different.” But the more he scrolls through, the more beautiful they get: gorgeous, saturated landscapes from the countryside to big cities like places around Seoul and even some that he recognizes as Japan and New York. Stunning portraits of his friends taken against technicolor backgrounds of greenery and walls of flowers, backlit by the sun and framed by blurry light. He laughs and scrolls quicker through goofy photos of some of the cats at the shop sitting on his head, on his feet; there’s a few pictures, some blurry and some clear, of a pack of kittens climbing up his pant leg. 

Absorbed in the photos Jaebum is showing him, Jinyoung doesn’t even realize that he puts his hand on Jaebum’s leg to lean in closer until there’s warmth under his palm and Jaebum is inhaling sharply through his nose. Jinyoung can’t even begin to describe the sensation that rocks through his entire body. Pure energy like lightning, every nerve ending singing, just from touch and the noise from Jaebum’s mouth alone.

“Oh,” Jinyoung says, pulling his hand away as blood rushes up to color his face bright red. “I’m sorry––”

Jaebum stands up very quickly, his own face red up to the tips of his ears where they’re visible through his hair even as he shakes it to let it cover his eyes. “I’ll be right back.” 

Sighing, Jinyoung sips his lemonade while watching Jaebum’s back as it disappears through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. He wonders if he should be worried about Jaebum’s reaction to being touched, but he comes back a moment later and looks, for the most part, like it hadn’t happened. 

“I wanted to show you some of the really good ones,” he says, sitting back down next to him, and closer than he had been before. Jinyoung can feel the warmth of his arm pressed into his chest, and the line of his hip and thigh where it fits against his own. Jinyoung’s heart flutters nervously in his chest; Jaebum smells like soap and citrus with a hint of laundry detergent and sweat. He’s driving Jinyoung crazy and he doesn’t even know it. 

“Jaebum, these are beautiful!” he gasps, leaning closer, the screen much smaller than that of his phone but the pictures are even more crisp and lovely than he could have imagined. 

“Most of these are for my graduation project,” he says, so close that Jinyoung can feel his breath on the back of his neck. He tries not to shudder and hopes like hell that Jaebum doesn’t see his skin break out in goosebumps. The pictures he flips through are riots of people and color; most of them are of guys, in various states of dress and soaked with brightly colored paint or smeared with it on the naked parts of their body. “They’re all portraits, for a part of my magazine. I’m––uh, I’m gay, and I’m doing a gay art magazine––”

His voice quivers like he’s terrified of telling Jinyoung out loud that he’s gay. Jinyoung, of course, is too: he puts a warm hand on Jaebum’s wrist for comfort and asks to see more. This seems to relax him and the both of them, though quietly, revel in the feeling of Jinyoung’s fingers wrapped loosely around Jaebum’s wrist. 

“Some of the completely nude ones I took on film,” he says, and he leans a little closer, too, so that his lips are nearly at Jinyoung’s ear. He’s just explaining the process to him, about setting up lighting and splashing his models with body paint in the most clinical way, but there’s something so... _ sensual  _ about the way Jaebum talks him through it. He keeps flipping as he talks, handsome guys laughing or stoic for the camera, all people he doesn’t recognize. Jaebum is halfway through chuckling at a story about how he stained a piece of the wall in his apartment when the picture flips to someone he  _ does  _ recognize.

It’s a photo of Jaebum.  _ Naked. _

Jinyoung’s eyes widen: it’s taken from the waist up, but just barely: he can see where the line of dark hair on Jaebum’s flat stomach ends at the base of his dick, but can’t see anything else. His tanned, lean body is free of paint except for a rainbow that’s smeared across his chest diagonally, his fingers coated in it and resting near his ribs as though he’d wiped the colors across his own skin. His dark hair is messy, sweaty, face flushed; his mouth is open and his eyes dark like he’d just finished––

“Oh fuck,” he barks, knees jerking and nearly smashing the camera into Jinyoung’s face. He pulls back quickly, giggling, blushing a little at having seen so much of him on accident while Jaebum’s entire upper body goes cherry red. Jinyoung covers his mouth and watches as Jaebum frantically turns his camera off and covers it up in his lap with both hands. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to show you  _ that  _ one––”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung says, putting his hand on his arm. Jaebum just looks down at it like he can’t believe Jinyoung is touching him again. “It’s art. I get it. It was very tasteful. You…” Jinyoung falters;  _ you’re very hot  _ sounds a bit insincere. “Are very handsome,” he finishes lamely.

Jaebum swallows. “You have a really cute laugh.”

Surprised, Jinyoung shoves him playfully and laughs a little more when Jaebum just smiles with his eyes closed and lets him do it. He falls to his side on the bench, laying there for a moment like he’s defeated before he sits back up and rubs the back of his head.

“Yours is cute too,” he says. Jinyoung licks his lips and tries not to watch Jaebum watch, instead trying to say, 

“Hey, listen, do you want to––”

“Do you want to go to a party with me this weekend?” Jaebum blurts out over him, cringing externally like he’s waiting for Jinyoung to slap him. Honestly, he’s so shy it’s making Jinyoung’s heart do the craziest thing. Jinyoung thinks that if Im Jaebum gets any cuter he’s going to have to kiss him just to stop looking directly at him.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Jinyoung says, laughing as Jaebum slumps back against the bench seat in relief. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “Yeah, I’d love to go with you.” 

“You know Bambam, don’t you?” he asks, his face no longer bright red, but there’s the flushed pink on the apples of his cheeks like he can’t believe this is happening. Jinyoung digs his fingers into the strap of his bag so that he doesn’t reach out and fist a hand in his shirt to yank him down on top of him.

“Yeah! He lives with Mark, and you know Mark, don’t you?”

“He’s my best friend,” Jaebum laughs, and they’re both surprised at how they’d been connected by the thinnest degrees of separation. “It’s at their house. Do you...do you want to meet down on the corner so we can go together?”

With Mino, it was easy. He was never nervous, he was never scared. His palms never sweat and his knees never shook. But Im Jaebum flashes him that radiant smile and it’s like Jinyoung is seeing the sun for the very first time. 

“Yeah, of course. Of course. I’d love to.”

 


	2. ii ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i found you baby  
> you must be an angel  
> [\- at the party -](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAWFV067rkg)
> 
>  
> 
> 꿈을 깨봐도 you, you  
> 너란 미로 속 you, you  
> [\- on the floor -](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J_NiZ3IYhL0)  
> 

 

When Jinyoung turns the corner on Saturday night and sees Jaebum leaning up against a lit-up lamppost, he stops short and has to catch his breath. 

He feels sort of under dressed in comparison, despite Jaebum’s outfit being quite casual: the same ripped jeans he was wearing on Thursday, giving him little flashes of tanned skin that, if he said he wasn’t dying to touch, he’d be lying. A tight grey turtleneck is stretched across his broad chest under a dark denim jacket with anime patches on the front pocket and splashed across the back. Brown ankle boots with a tiny heel that would look tacky on anyone else look incredible on him; top the whole thing off with his forehead exposed by his dark hair pushed back into a beanie and Jinyoung is pretty sure he can feel his heart leaving his body through his mouth. 

As if he can hear him falling in love all the way down the street, Jaebum looks up from his phone at that moment. Illuminated from above like some kind of stupid angel, he smiles and waves him down. 

“Jinyoungie! Come on!” 

As he approaches, he can’t help but notice that Jaebum takes a step back and gives him the full up and down complete with a low whistle. “You look amazing.”

Jinyoung blushes, thankful that it’s dark outside. He pushes Jaebum playfully by the shoulder and looks forlornly at his own outfit, very plain in his wardrobe staple fitted jeans cuffed at the ankle and bordering on high waisted. He chose to wore one of his fancier feeling shirts, a crisp white, short sleeved button down with large black buttons done all the way up to the neck and tucked in; he had cinched it with a plain black belt and thrown on his beat up navy Nikes and called it a day. In comparison he feels very, very lackluster. 

“Really?” he says, looking back up at him. Jaebum is just watching him with an excited fondness that makes Jinyoung have to fight back a smile.  _ “You  _ look amazing. You’re so...fashionable. Are you sure you want to be seen with me? I look like a...like a dork.” 

“I think you’ve never looked cuter,” Jaebum says, and shyly reaches out his hand for Jinyoung to take. “Now, come on, or else we’re going to miss the party.”

Jinyoung takes it. He feels a little shy but exorbitantly giddy. It feels crazy: they’d only met for the first time like, what, a week ago? And yet here he is, holding Jaebum’s hand and letting him guide them up the stairs to a house drowning in the thudding bass of dance music, trying so hard to keep it together. His life had changed so quickly from the monotony of class, practice, work, Mino. He had been bored and didn’t know it; there hadn’t been a word until now, when he finally realizes that all he’d been missing was excitement and as Jaebum looks back at him with a sly grin as he pushes open the door, Jinyoung realizes that he’s all of that and more.

They’re immediately hit with a wave of sound and smell: there’s so many people packed into the not-so-big living room of Mark and Bambam’s house that Jinyoung can smell the sweat and alcohol from the mass of bodies pushed together on a makeshift dance floor. Jinyoung crinkles his nose and Jaebum laughs: he has to lean closer in order to be heard, and Jinyoung feels the first shiver run down his back at Jaebum’s lips on his ear:

“What do you want to drink?” he asks, breath hot, and Jinyoung squeezes his fingers, hoping that it comes off as nervousness and not….the other thing.

“Something sweet,” he calls back, hoping that whatever it is, it gets them drunk fast. Jinyoung isn’t a hermit by any means, but he’s never been into the party scene the way that Jackson and Yugyeom are. He wonders if they’re here somewhere, already drunk and possibly shirtless as they run around the room and wreak their own special kind of mayhem. 

“Go find us a spot somewhere on the edge,” he murmurs in his ear, and Jinyoung bites his lip with a nod. Jaebum lets go of his hand and disappears into the squirming crowd toward the kitchen while Jinyoung shoves his way through to get them a spot by the wall on the opposite side. 

He sees people he knows from school along the way, stopping to say hi every now and then to people who aren’t too drunk to recognize him. Some of his and Jackson’s soccer teammates are even here, including their captain, but by the way his face is completely red and the hair is pushed off his face as he grinds on some girl from one of his linguistics classes, he can tell that he’s been drinking for much longer than he should have, so Jinyoung quickly ducks by him to get through the crowd and toward the wall. Luckily they’re by a side door to the backyard  so, if they need to, he and Jaebum can make a quick exit for fresh air. 

Jaebum reappears with their drinks, hair messy where his beanie has been pulled off and stuck in his jacket pocket. He looks more handsome than he did earlier, which Jinyoung didn’t think possible; he takes the drink and asks what it is while he reaches up to shamelessly fix Jaebum’s hair so that it falls back into place.

“It’s a vodka lemonade,” he almost purrs, eyes closed and grinning like a cat while Jinyoung combs his fingers through the front of his hair until the pieces are on their correct sides. He cracks an eye open to look at him and the smile grows. “Your favorite.”

Jinyoung takes a sip, and boy, if Jaebum is the one that poured it, he pours heavy. It’s more vodka than lemonade, but they’re here to have a good time with each other, and he can’t complain. With a matching smirk he cups Jaebum’s cheek in his palm after fixing his hair like a mother might.

“Thanks. You’re too sweet.”

Jaebum turns his head quickly, catching Jinyoung’s palm with his lips and kissing it before he holds his hand by the wrist and pulls it away. “Almost like you.”

Heart thudding, Jinyoung laughs and shoves at him. “Cheesy.”

If Jaebum is insulted by that, he doesn't show it. It wasn’t one, anyway, and Jinyoung thinks that by the way his lips curl at the corners he actually enjoyed it very much. He lets Jaebum pull him by the wrist and turn him so that they’re standing back to back against the wall; what ensues is them slowly sipping their drinks as they people watch and laugh with each other until tears are leaking from their eyes. They have a surprising amount of mutual friends, and they wonder out loud to each other with matching smiles about how they could have been missing each other by barely an inch for so, so long. 

What startles Jinyoung the most is how natural it all feels. For someone that he just met for the first time a week or so before, it feels like he’s known Jaebum for his whole life. Their laughter is so easy and shared, dumb jokes met with dumber jokes and synchronized cackling. If worse comes to worse and it ends up not working out romantically, Jinyoung thinks he could get used to having Jaebum as a friend; he’d be a liar, though, if he said that he didn’t want something more. 

After their drinks are finished and fresh ones in their hands, Jinyoung is finally starting to feel the buzz that circles around his vision. His limbs feel loose and his smile looser, so he grabs Jaebum’s wrist not holding his drink and pulls him closer to the dance floor.

“Wanna dance?” he asks, brightening when the song ends and one of his favorites starts: that thumping of the bass makes Jinyoung jump up excitedly. “I love this song!” 

“Show me how much you love it, then,” Jaebum says, face flushed pink from alcohol and maybe a little something else. The words themselves were innocent enough, but it’s the low, almost rough way he’d said them that’s making Jinyoung swallow hard and pull him a little closer. Jaebum’s eyes darken when Jinyoung slides his free arm around his neck and closes his eyes to feel the beat.

The bass vibrates up into his legs from the floor, every beat making him sway his hips left, right, left against Jaebum’s body. The noise of partygoers playing drinking games and shouting at each other to be heard over the music fades away as he lets the music take him and drag Jaebum down with him as he opens his eyes to look up at him from beneath his lashes.

_ Saramduelun neol mollabwa,  
_ _ But I can see your halo  _

Jinyoung’s body is warm, edges of his vision blown out by alcohol, every touch of Jaebum’s hand where it rests on his lower back to keep him pressed close sending lightning heat through him. Jaebum gasps shamelessly as their hips connect when Jaebum pulls him closer, hairline damp from heat and alcohol and want as Jinyoung slides his fingers into the strands to grip them while he grinds. 

__ Jejarireul chajajwo my angel  
_ Yeah, I found you baby,  
_ __ You must be an angel, an angel 

“Jinyoung,” he groans under his breath, fingers tightening to a fist in his shirt, nearly untucking it from his pants. Jinyoung just grins and continues to mouth the words to him while he dances against him, eyes dark, tipping his head back just to watch Jaebum’s eyes travel down.

And it’s the icing on the cake: not only do they get along beautifully, but every brush of their hips that connect, every drag of Jaebum’s fingers on his skin, every flex of Jinyoung’s wrapped up in Jaebum’s hair, the fire that had sparked between them with Jinyoung’s hand on his leg in the cafe grows to wild burning and won’t stop. The catalyst has been set and Jinyoung teases him with a kiss that he won’t quite give yet just to feel the low growl that rumbles in Jaebum’s chest against his own. 

But he wants it. Sure enough, he does, and  _ badly.  _

Both of their bodies find a rhythm to the repetitive beat of the song, nearly one person with how hard they’re shoved together, Jaebum pulling on his shirt from the back like he could mold them into one. With a final flick of his wrist, Jinyoung downs the rest of his heavy handed drink and leans back to put the empty cup on a nearby table, only to have Jaebum pull him back up the collar and then up against the wall. 

“Jaebum,” he breathes, in a mirror of the way that he’d said his own name earlier, both of his free hands sliding into Jaebum’s hair as he pins him to the wall with his body. He balances his weight on one hand to the wall near Jinyoung’s head while he turns to slam the rest of his drink with the other. When it’s empty and he licks his wet, undoubtedly sweet tasting lips, he gets rid of the cup and puts his other hand on the wall, trapping him in. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, voice rough, but still with that warmth he’d had since Jinyoung returned his film that day. Jinyoung plays with the hair on his neck and laughs breathlessly when Jaebum’s eyes roll back with a full body shudder. He licks his lips again and adds, “we can just hang out, just the two of us––”

“‘Hang out’?” Jinyoung laughs, resisting the urge to get both legs around Jaebum’s hips right now when he’s got Jinyoung up against the wall and half hard against his hip. “Is that what they call it these days?” 

Jaebum blushes even more, if that’s possible. “Shut up. I meant, really hang out. You can see more of my art, and we can watch a movie or something––”

With a soft smile, Jinyoung places his palm over Jaebum’s mouth. “I was just kidding. I’d love to. Let’s go.”

  
  
  


They don’t see any of their mutual friends on their way out, although by the way that Jaebum is pulling him along by the wrist, he thinks that it wouldn’t matter if they did, anyway. The two of them are on a mission to get the hell out of here and be together just the two of them, and Jinyoung would be damned if anyone got in their way.

Still slightly drunk, the two of them lean against each other and giggle the entire time they’re on the curb waiting for a cab, and the entire time in the cab is spent with curious hands on thighs and knees, almost touching, almost not; breathless laughs turn into hiccups of shortened noises as someone gets too close and pulls away. The game of chicken that they’re playing is dangerous, Jinyoung knows: there will come a point where someone will break, and for once, Jinyoung wouldn’t mind doing the breaking.

When they finally stumble into his apartment and the lights get turned on, Jinyoung is surprised at how neat it is: he kind of expected an artist’s apartment to be quite hectic, but the only real mess that he can see is the papers, paints, film, and printed photos scattered all over a desk in the corner by the window. There’s no hallway to his bedroom, just a door, making the apartment seem a little smaller than it is on the ground, but the ceilings are soaring and decorated with a gorgeous, old school chandelier too far for either of them to reach without a ladder. Art hangs on nearly every inch of the walls, painted a very calming forest green, and it offsets the one wall of exposed brick almost like Jaebum had designed the space himself. 

“Your apartment is so gorgeous,” Jinyoung breathes, turning his head this way and that to try and look at absolutely everything at once. His face still burns from the buzz that makes his arms and legs feel light, and he turns to see that Jaebum’s face is the same, but with the undercurrent of a modest shyness. 

“Thank you,” he says, coming out of the tiny kitchen to stand next to him. The window is on the wall opposite them, only a sliver of the city below them visible through the gap in the curtains. It’s beautiful and, in it’s way, oddly romantic. Jinyoung thinks he might just be imagining that, though.

He can feel Jaebum’s eyes on his back as he wanders, fingers brushing the velvet of the couch’s arm as he passes, going over to a sound system on the other side of the window to look at the records Jaebum has neatly lined up in rows on the shelves. Jinyoung smiles––he’s such a sucker for R&B, but he can see the little bits of his eclectic tastes here and there. His heart settles and warms as he gets to know Jaebum little by little just by seeing the stuff in his intimate space.

“What’s that?” he asks, turning toward the wall of exposed brick, pointing at the plain colored sheet threaded between two bars sticking out from it and trailing onto the floor. 

“Oh!” Jaebum exclaims, disappearing into his bedroom and coming back with a camera with a tripod. He sets it down at the very edge of the sheet where it comes halfway through his living room and says with a proud smile, “it’s my mini studio. This is where I shoot most of my portrait stuff, if it’s not outside.”

Jinyoung glances at the pots of paint scattered haphazardly on the desk before looking back at him. “Is this where you took the photos with the paint?” 

When Jinyoung doesn’t think it’s possible for his face to get redder, it does. “Yes.”

“Have you started your magazine?” Jinyoung asks, watching as Jaebum leans down to fiddle with the camera settings when he turns it on. “I remember you saying that you were working on it, and that those photos were for part of it.”

He nods, not looking, but stops fiddling with the camera to sigh. “Sort of. I started it, and most of the photos for everything else are done, but the main article that has a spread, the model dropped out. It’s the last thing I needed before I could start putting it all together on the computer.”

Jinyoung pauses, looking at Jaebum’s face. It’s risky. He  _ knows  _ it’s risky. Jinyoung isn’t a model by any means, and the possibility of someone as serious about their work as Jaebum laughing him off is very high. But the warm feeling of Jaebum’s hands on his body and the undeniable connection they have both emotionally and physically makes him think that taking a leap won’t be so bad if there’s not that far to fall.

Plus, he’s kind of tipsy. Being tipsy when he asks definitely helps.

Jinyoung takes a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Jaebum asks, looking at him with furrowed brows and a goofy smile. 

“The spread,” he says, and then reneges a bit on his confidence when Jaebum’s eyes widen at the implication. “I mean, if you want. I’m just saying, if you need someone to do it––” 

“You...it’s a nude thing,” Jaebum replies, and he sounds a little hoarse. “You’d have to be naked. You don’t have to do it, Jinyoungie,” and the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes his body burn that much hotter, “I can find someone.” 

Sort of offended, Jinyoung crosses his arms and huffs. “What, so you don’t want to see me naked?”

Jaebum’s answer is less than joking when his eyes darken and he bites his lip. “No, trust me. I do.”

The heat in such a small sentence nearly rocks him back on his heels. Dumbly, Jinyoung blinks at him. “Oh.”

“You really don’t have to,” Jaebum murmurs, but his eyes have wandered down Jinyoung’s body like he’s already trying to pose it in his head. “But...if you want to…”

“I’ll do it for you, hyung.” Jaebum flushes at the title and laughs a little. “Just tell me what to do.”

Both of them seem a little nervous as Jaebum tells him where to stand, hands lingering on the tops of his arms as he gets him framed correctly. Their proximity as Jaebum works around him and touching him only makes his nerves feel raw, aching; he knows that he’s doing something important for Jaebum, but at the same time, there’s that low down dirty feeling in his gut that makes him want to take Jaebum down to the floor and kiss him until it hurts. 

Once Jaebum has him framed the way he wants, he goes over to the stereo and connects his phone, turning on what he assumes is an entire playlist of slow and sexy R&B songs to set the mood. Jinyoung watches with his fingers already playing at the top button of his shirt as Jaebum turns off a couple of the lights so that he’s bathed only in the soft, white glow of the glass chandelier above their heads.

“Okay,” Jaebum breathes, and his voice shakes a little like he’s nervous. He’s standing behind the camera and gripping it with one hand so hard it looks like he’s going to break it; if Jinyoung wasn’t feeling oddly nervous himself about stripping naked for Jaebum in front of a camera for the sake of art, he might have pointed it out and laughed. “Are you ready?” 

Without answering in words, Jinyoung shakes himself out before he turns it  _ on.  _ He closes his eyes to feel the music again, slipping into that side of himself that’s a little more loose than his every-day persona, one that lets the music flow into his blood and control the slow movements of his fingers as he slowly pops the first few buttons of his shirt. When he opens his eyes, hooded and intense, he can hear Jaebum suck in a breath where he’s got his eye to the camera and every so often letting the shutter fire. 

Jinyoung tries to move a little as he undoes the rest of his buttons, giving Jaebum different angles, letting the shirt slide down to his elbows when it falls open as he pulls it out from his pants. The waistband of his jeans come up to just underneath his navel, high up on his hips and accentuating his small waist. The sexy mood of the music paired with the alcohol in his blood makes Jinyoung feel even more sensual, and he lets it take over as he turns to look over his bare shoulder with the shirt half down his back. Jaebum makes an unidentifiable noise and Jinyoung has to try not to smile as he drops the shirt.

The beats are good, and he can’t help but dance a little bit as he runs his fingers down his stomach to the button on his jeans. He’s sure that if Jackson knew about this, he wouldn’t call it art but a strip-tease; he kind of finds that he doesn’t mind so much as he makes eye contact with Jaebum’s camera and hooks his fingers in his belt loops to pull his jeans down and away from the lithe line of his hips. The shutter clicking every so often and Jaebum’s face nearly hidden behind it as he adjusts it this way and that while he moves makes Jinyoung work harder, hips swaying, twisting back and forth, bending back to stretch with both hands against the wall so Jaebum has more than just him looking like an awkward stripper.  _ It’s for art,  _ he reminds himself,  _ not for you turning him on.  _

Regardless, though, he can hear the way Jaebum’s breathing changes and his free hand grips the leg of the tripod as Jinyoung pops the button of his jeans and starts to slide them down his thighs. Jaebum looks at him over the top of the camera when they’re around his knees and he’s standing there in just his black briefs and  _ stares. _

The shutter still clicks, but lazily. Jaebum isn’t even looking through the viewfinder, and Jinyoung covers his crotch with both hands like he’s suddenly shy. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he breathes, voice so full of raw honesty it makes Jinyoung feel like he’s bleeding. “You’re just so beautiful.”

He covers his face to hide the goofy stupid smile that curls on his mouth; Jaebum just leans back down and clicks the shutter like crazy until he’s pulling his hands away to push his jeans the rest of the way off and throwing them toward the couch. 

“Ooh, I love this song,” Jinyoung says when it changes to one by Dean, standing there in just his underwear, feeling the tiniest bit more awkward now that he’s mostly naked. It’s not that he’s almost naked, because Jinyoung likes being naked, but it’s more the fact that now that his clothes are gone, he’s not sure what to do. “Can I lay down? Can you get shots that way?” 

He thinks he hears Jaebum groan, but he’s not sure, and Jaebum just nods. Jinyoung swallows and feels the way warmth rakes down his body following the line of Jaebum’s eyes on him as he lowers himself to his back and turns his face toward the camera. There’s a quiet moment under the music as Jaebum readjusts his camera to frame him laying on the gray of the sheet that has Jinyoung’s blood buzzing. 

“Ready?” 

Jaebum, speechless, just nods again. 

Now that he’s on the ground he feels like he has a little more room to move with his body: he arches his back, face turned away, toward the ceiling, toward the camera. He spreads his legs and keeps them together, still in his underwear, not yet daring to slide them off so that Jaebum can see him in full. He reaches between his legs to touch his thighs with both hands, back bowed off the floor, and he hears Jaebum suck in a breath at the same time he looks over to see him grinding the heel of his hand against his groin. 

“Jesus christ, Jinyoung,” he groans, letting that shutter click even as the both of them hold themselves back from the growing vines of lust that start to throttle both of them on their opposite sides of the camera. 

“Hyung,” he says, his own voice whiskey harsh, blood rushing from his head at the way Jaebum strips off his denim jacket like it’s suddenly way too hot in the room. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Way too much,” he mutters, and it would be funny if Jinyoung couldn’t feel himself getting hard when he watches Jaebum continue pushing his hand down against the crotch of his jeans. 

Not quite ready to get completely naked on the floor of Jaebum’s apartment, Jinyoung bunches up some of the excess sheet and throws it between his legs and over his hips to give him more movement with the illusion of nudity. Even just the hint of it makes the both of them lose their breath; Jinyoung has to close his eyes against the image of Jaebum getting turned on by him from behind the camera. 

As he poses for him, nearly nude and eye fucking the camera like his life depends on it, the song changes once again to something deeper and more sexy. Jinyoung accidentally brushes against his half-hard cock with his wrist and gasps quietly; Jaebum clicks the shudder at the exact same time and he wonders deliriously if the picture was good or not. At this point, Jinyoung is so wound up from hearing Jaebum whimper and breathe out whispered curses behind the camera that he can barely think straight.

“Hyung,” he nearly croaks, his body held in one spot, the bunch of sheets just out of reach. “Come here and hand me this, will you? I don’t want to lose this pose.”

It’s a mistake and he should have known it would be. Probably part of him knew that it would be and asked, anyway. Jaebum’s pulse is nearly visible in his throat as he breathes quietly, but unevenly, and gets down on his knees between his ankles to help. He picks up the sheet and tries to hand it to him but with the music, the alcohol, and the absolute desire rolling off the both of them in waves, he can’t do it anymore. Jinyoung pushes the sheet out of Jaebum’s hand roughly and sits up to fist a hand in the chest of his turtleneck. 

“Jinyoung––” he says, like he’s going to protest, but he lets himself be pulled forward until Jinyoung is lowering himself back down to the floor and pulling Jaebum down to his hands and knees on top of him. Their chests brush, one bare, one clothed, as Jinyoung arches his back against him and slides an arm around his neck. “Fuck––”

“Kiss me,” he whimpers, fingers sliding to Jaebum’s hair as he pulls him down further to rest on his forearms as the length of his body stretches out along his and pins him to the floor. “Don’t know how bad I’ve been dying for it––”

Without missing a beat Jaebum leans down to press their mouths together. His lips are unbearably soft, bottom lip thick, slightly swollen already from the way he’d been chewing on it while he was taking Jinyoung’s photos. They kiss again, longer, until Jinyoung parts his lips beneath an insistent tongue and gasps into Jaebum’s open mouth.

Their kiss only deepens and intensifies as Jaebum angles his head, tongue warm where it slides against his own, drawing out noises from Jinyoung’s chest that he swallows with a low noise of his own. Jaebum’s hands find the sides of Jinyoung’s head to hold it still on the floor, fingers in his hair, so gently Jinyoung could cry as their bodies start to spark and catch fire to the beat of the song playing.

Jaebum’s body is so lean, so long; it’s hard to see under his clothes, but he can feel it where every inch of it is pressed against him still dressed and starting to move. Jinyoung’s bare legs spread underneath him to fall against his denim covered hips and he moans softly into his mouth when the rough bulge of Jaebum’s hard cock grinds against his thinly covered by cotton. Jaebum’s mouth moves from his to kiss across his cheek and to his jaw as Jinyoung gets his hands up underneath the soft grey of Jaebum’s shirt to dig his blunt nails into the blazing skin of his lower back. His hips jerk down hard into his, making him yelp in pleasure-pain; Jaebum retaliates by licking a spot underneath his ear and sinking his teeth into it when Jinyoung’s back bows.

“God, Jinyoung,” Jaebum pants into his ear, hips working, still holding Jinyoung’s head where it rests on the ground. “I already thought you were sexy, but getting you in front of a camera––” he chokes when Jinyoung slides his hand around and sticks his fingers palm-side down into the front of his jeans under his navel, eyes rolling––”fuck, Jinyoung––”

“Yes, please,” he breathes, laughing breathlessly when Jaebum does and drops his forehead against his cheek. “C’mon, hyung, god, want you so bad––”

He plants kisses at the corner of Jinyoung’s mouth, getting up on his hands to push up and sit on his knees. He just sits there for a moment even after saying  _ I’ll be right back,  _ eyes half-lidded and pure black with lust as he admires the lean, unmarked length of Jinyoung’s body spread underneath him, obviously straining against the black fabric of his briefs. Jinyoung slips his fingers into the waistband like he’s going to push them off and it wakes him up from his trance enough to growl  _ I’m going to take those off of you, don’t you dare  _ before he’s darting into his room to rustle around in a drawer and drop back to his knees in the quickest thirty seconds Jinyoung’s ever seen.

Slowly, painfully so, Jaebum runs both his hands down Jinyoung’s chest and to his flat stomach. He admires it for a little longer, absently running the pads of his fingers along the insides of Jinyoung’s thighs in a way that makes them shake. Jinyoung’s stomach feels hollowed out and burning when he pulls impatiently at the bottom of Jaebum’s shirt and begs him to take it off.

He obliges: it’s everything that Jinyoung had seen in the photo, minus the paint. He’s unbelievably more broad in real life, so much unmarked skin for the touching, masculine in the shoulders and hips with a waist that’s unfairly quiet small. Jinyoung’s breath catches and comes out in a shake as Jaebum lays his warm hands on Jinyoung’s hips with his fingers curled in the white waistband of his briefs.

They watch each other; Jinyoung’s eyes flash and he licks his lip while he waits for Jaebum to yank them off. 

“Do it.”

And he does: Jaebum pulls them down fast, to his knees and kicked off so quickly he barely has time to gasp before Jaebum is slicking up his fingers with the lube he brought from his room and wrapping them around Jinyoung’s cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut and arching into his hand as Jaebum starts to stroke him slowly. Jinyoung feels his breath sawing out of him, loud, the hand not in his hair grabbing Jaebum’s wrist and digging the nails in with how torturously slow he’s going. Jaebum just laughs softly and hiccups on a noise when Jinyoung whines for him. “Hyung, please––”

“Shhh,” he shushes him, letting go of where he’d been holding onto Jinyoung’s hip to unbutton his own jeans with one hand. Jinyoung tries to open his eyes to look down the length of his body and watch, but the image of Jaebum slowly stroking his cock with one hand and pushing his jeans down to the end of his thighs with the other makes him drop his head back to the floor and gasp for breath. “You’re so good, Jinyoung––fuck, you’re so good––”

“Please,” he begs, feeling the heat in his stomach like burning gasoline blaze down both his legs. “Please, I want you––”

With a shaky breath, Jaebum pours more lube on his fingers before dropping down to his free hand and supporting his weight, face above Jinyoung’s and mere inches away as he slowly teases his way up Jinyoung’s thighs to his ass. Their eyes meet and hold in an intense staring contest as Jinyoung lets his legs fall apart and his body angle as Jaebum teases a finger at his entrance and slowly slides in. He gasps and digs his nails into Jaebum’s bare shoulder.

“Okay?” he pants, lips swollen, and Jinyoung laughs a little breathlessly until he twitches and moans at the feeling of Jaebum above him. 

“Not my first rodeo,” Jinyoung says with a grin, once again grabbing a fistful of hair at the back of Jaebum’s head. Jaebum’s eyes flash and he bares his teeth with a hiss of pleasure-pain as he pulls slightly out to add a second finger. 

Jinyoung pulls him down for a kiss that doesn’t break: it’s all teeth and tongues and shared breath as Jaebum fingers him open, just as gentle as he’d kissed him the first time, until he’s slipping in a third and Jinyoung is so turned on and close to the edge he could cry. Jaebum just plants sweet kisses to his mouth and neck as Jinyoung arches to slide their skin together and begs for him to fill him up.

“Please,” he breathes, wound up, feeling almost relieved when Jaebum pulls away momentarily to slick up his cock with lube that Jinyoung watches him pour deliberately slow. “Stop teasing me, jackass––”

Jaebum bursts into surprised laughter, letting it fade into a natural noise of pleasure as he holds Jinyoung’s hips down with one hand and makes him watch as he strokes the hard length of his cock between his legs. Jinyoung is in no way above begging and the sight of Jaebum on his knees between his slightly sticky spread thighs and stroking himself off makes him want to scream  _ please, please, please  _ at the top of his lungs. 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ Jaebum seems to get enough of torturing him and drops back down to one hand, using the other to pull Jinyoung slightly up into his lap and line up. He rolls his hips a couple of times, head sliding between Jinyoung’s thigh and his groin almost against his own length, half laughing/half moaning when Jinyoung whines and leaks precome across his navel. Jaebum leans the rest of the way down to catch his mouth in a kiss as he pushes in and thrusts once to bottom out inside him. 

It starts slow: they barely breathe as they mold to each other’s bodies, hands in hair and Jinyoung’s on his back to drag his blunt nails down the length of it when Jaebum rolls his hips deep. Their kisses go back and forth between sloppy, wet, frantic things to something sweet and gentle as Jaebum finds a slow pace and sticks to it. Part of him wants him to go faster, harder, but there’s an unspoken intimacy that exists in the limited space between their bodies as Jaebum murmurs words of praise against his mouth and fucks him slow and deep. His whole body is burning like a pyre, filled up the brim of him and spilling over like boiling water, wanting more, needing more, wanting every piece of his body to feel some part of Jaebum’s mouth and hands. He bows into Jaebum’s belly, trying to take him deeper, pressing their stomachs together so that he has something to rut against as his cock twitches and aches to be touched. 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum moans into his ear, teeth scraping his earlobe and whimpering when his hips start to stutter. “Jinyoung––”

“Come on, hyung, just a little faster,” he throws his head back into the hard ground, not feeling it as Jaebum starts to pump his hips just a little bit quicker. “Oh, god, yeah, right there––”

“You’re so good, Jinyoungie,” he whimpers, grip on Jinyoung’s hip nearly bruising as he uses to pull him down harder when he thrusts up. “So handsome, so good, fuck, your pictures are amazing––”

Jinyoung bites his lip and nearly thrashes it feels so good, Jaebum deep and fucking him harder the closer they both get to orgasm. He reaches down between them and tries not to scream when Jaebum drops his head between his shoulders to watch as Jinyoung’s fingers trail through the wetness gathered on his belly and use it to jerk himself off fast and rough. At this angle he has a great view of the way Jaebum’s back muscle moves beneath the skin that Jinyoung has raised angry, red lines of welts upon with his blunt nails.

“So close, hyung,” he whimpers, tiring, but that static is heating up in his blood like the charge of lightning in the air just before it strikes. “C’mon, yeah, just like that––”

With a broken whimper of  _ Jaebum hyung _ that falls from his lips, Jinyoung lasts for another rough, deep thrust of Jaebum’s cock inside him before his own twitches and he comes messily across his fingers and stomach. Panting, he continues to stroke himself as he encourages Jaebum with breathless need to pull out when he’s close so that he can come across Jinyoung’s flat stomach.

“Fuck, Jinyoung––” he chokes, barely understandable; Jinyoung whimpers when he feels Jaebum’s cock throb inside him before he’s pulling out fast and coming across Jinyoung’s already wet belly with a choked off whimper turned sigh.

Jaebum turns his head, and they kiss lazy and slow for a moment as they catch their breath. Jinyoung is the first to crack a smile and start to laugh, which makes Jaebum smile back against his mouth.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry for seducing you from in front of the camera,” he says, eyes crinkling when Jaebum laughs softly and kisses him once more before sitting up on his knees. He watches Jaebum pull his underwear and jeans back up barely over his hips before Jaebum shifts back onto his feet in a crouch and offers Jinyoung his hand. 

“You’re not sorry,” he says, pulling Jinyoung up with him as he stands. “And neither am I. Let’s go take a shower.”

“I don’t have any clothes with me except what I brought,” Jinyoung says, but it’s not an objection. He lets Jaebum guide him into the bedroom and through it until they’re in the bathroom and he’s turning the shower on for Jinyoung to step into and rinse off his belly. Jaebum watches him for a moment, eyes soft, the fondness so clear in his expression it’s like it’s written directly on his face.

“You can borrow some of mine, if you want.” When Jinyoung just gives him a soft smile, he steps out of his own jeans to join him under the warmth of the spray.

Their hands wander as they shower together, poking and prodding and groping, but they’re both a little too tired to start anything major, and the majority of their time in the shower is spent washing off and kissing sweetly beneath the water. They murmur sweet things into each other’s ears and, once again, it feels like Jinyoung has known him for a thousand lifetimes.

Once the water starts to run cold, Jaebum ushers him out and hands him a towel while he dries off quickly before heading into the bedroom to grab some clothes. He brings back a pair of underwear that don’t quite fit, seeing as Jinyoung’s ass is a little bigger, and a blood red sweatshirt with VETEMENTS written across the front in a weird, metal looking font. It’s way too big for Jaebum, which means it’s going to swallow Jinyoung, and he laughs when he asks if that was intentional.

“Maybe,” Jaebum says, blushing. “I just thought you’d look good in it, okay? I can get you something else, if you’re not comfortable in that.”

Jinyoung smiles as he slips it on. It comes down to his thighs, the perfect length for Jaebum to groan at when he looks naked underneath it. He touches Jinyoung’s exposed skin and sighs happily. 

Once they’re cuddled up together in bed, Jaebum pulls his laptop out from the drawer of his bedside table and sticks the memory card from his camera into it, face turned toward where Jinyoung is resting his cheek on his shoulder as it boots up. Jaebum had shyly asked if he wanted to help him pick out the photos for his spread when they were about to lay down, and he looked like an excited little boy when Jinyoung said yes and he ran to get the camera. Despite Jinyoung knowing little to nothing about photography and even less about modeling, it’s fun to flip through the photos that Jaebum had taken and listen to his deep, honey warmed voice point out various aspects of a photo that he likes.

It’s so comfortable, so natural. He feels like they’ve been doing this forever. As his eyes start to slip closed where he’s resting on Jaebum’s shoulder, he wonders if they had known each other in a past life; if, by some stretch of the imagination, doubles of themselves exist in every universe and, by fate’s design, they are always supposed to find their way to each other. As someone who relies more on fact because he too intimately knows fiction, it is more real than anything he’s ever felt.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebum whispers, closing the laptop when he glances down and sees that Jinyoung’s eyes are closing. “Tired?”

“No,” he says, and lies; he takes barely another three breaths before his eyes slip totally shut and he falls asleep with a cheek squished against Jaebum’s shoulder. Jaebum laughs softly, and despite Jinyoung being asleep, he looks at him with all the fondness in the world.

As dreams come, beautiful, colorful things like Jaebum’s photographs, he finds that even they are not as good as the real thing. Reading so many romances like he does, he had tired of them; they felt unrealistic, bland. They were fanatical, fantastic things where love blossomed in a blink like the flower that blooms only in the shadow of midnight. He had felt this impossible. Unreachable. Romance was not in the cards, and it would not come so quickly as this.

But it was, and it did. Against all odds, he found forever in a week.

 

♡


End file.
